by Mike Price
He decided to get something to eat and had almost reached the car park when his mobile rang. There was no caller ID so it was not anyone who he knew.
“Hello, Kenton speaking.”
“Hello, this is Sandra… from the café in Abbey Fields… you spoke to me earlier about your friends lost cigarette case. Well, I was talking to Di about it and she reminded me of a chap that we often see who has one of those detector things they use to look for buried treasure.”
“You mean a metal detector,” Kenton interrupted her.
“Yes, that’s right. Well, I’d forgotten all about him, we get so used to seeing him wandering around, he’s almost like a piece of the scenery.”
Kenton knew exactly what she meant, he had often asked people if anyone had called at their house and they would say no one until he mentioned the postman or the dustman and they always replied ‘oh they don’t count, do they’.
“Do you know how I can get in touch with this man?” Kenton was interested; this might be the breakthrough he needed.
“I don’t know where he lives but I’ll ask around for you if you like.”
“Thank you, that would be great, if you could get his name and address. When do you think you will have the information?”
“I’ll ask this evening and ring you.”
Kenton got into his car feeling a lot happier; this was the most promising lead he had. It made sense that someone actually looking for buried treasure might unearth the hidden case. If he could get to speak to the man and offer him a small reward, then he could wrap the whole thing up and be back in London with the best part of two thousand pounds in his bank account.
He drove back to his hotel and put in a call to Martin. There was no answer and after a couple of rings, the message service clicked in. He left a short message asking Martin to ring as soon he could. He knew that Martin was actually in Kenilworth, but did not want him to make contact other than by phone, as he would be tied up with meetings for the election. There was nothing more that Kenton could do until he received a call from Sandra, so decided to walk the half mile into the city centre and have a look round.
He knew very little about Coventry except for the legend of Lady Godiva, the 1940 bombing by the Germans, which almost flattened the place and of course, the new Cathedral which had been built in the sixties. He was not a religious man, but nevertheless, headed for the two cathedrals which stood next to each other. The one just a shell following the air raids and the new one, designed by Sir Basil Spence, an example of modern architecture at its best.
After spending some time admiring the building and its famous painting by Sutherland, he walked into the adjoining visitor centre that gave a potted history of the wartime devastation. Being an ex-soldier, it was this that interested him the most and he marvelled at the fortitude of the British people who had suffered six years of war. At least, when he had been in a war he was able to fight back, but for years, people in places like Coventry had to suffer what was at the time a very one sided attack.
He had been so interested in his exploration of the city that he had not noticed how quickly the time was passing. It was now five thirty and he began to make his way back to his hotel so he could be in his room when Martin phoned.
Once back in his room, he switched on the TV and tuned the channel to news twenty-four. It was the same as always, another soldier killed in Afghanistan, the politicians each blaming the other side for the state of the economy and another stabbing of a teenager. He switched it off; it was too depressing to watch.
His mobile suddenly burst into life and thinking it was Martin he answered.
“Hi, thanks for ringing back.”
“I’ve got that name for you.” He was surprised to hear a woman’s voice; it was Sandra from the park.
“Oh great, sorry, you caught me off guard, I thought you were someone else, I’ve been expecting a call.” He wondered why on earth he was explaining all this to Sandra, all he had to do was take the call!
“That’s okay, have you got a piece of paper?”
He reached for the pad and pencil that were lying on the table.
“Fire away.”
Sandra read out the name and address, unfortunately, she did not have a postcode but explained it was only a short distance from the park and gave him the directions.
“His name is Shakespeare, the same as the playwright; you know Stratford and all that. Apparently, he is known as Will to his friends, but I don’t know what his real name is. I hope that is of some help.”
“Yes, that’s very helpful, thank you. I’ll pop over tomorrow with a little something for your trouble.”
“Oh thanks very much, see you, bye.”
He felt very pleased with the way things were falling into place. Fifty quid would be a fair amount to pay the girls and he could put it down to expenses.
Martin did not phone until a quarter to nine, by which time, he had finished dinner and was sitting, drinking coffee in the lounge bar.
“Sorry it’s so late; I got your message but didn’t have time to ring earlier. As soon as the meeting finished, we went straight out for a few drinks and I’ve only just got away.”
Kenton understood, Martin had explained how important he took his candidature for the election; he also knew that Martin’s wife was joining him on Friday, so would not want her knowing anything about their dealings.
“I just wanted to up-date you on what’s happening.” Kenton spent about five minutes filling in the details of yesterday’s meeting with Joe and the discovery that the picture was no longer in Joe’s possession.
“So, let me get this clear. There’s no chance of Joe blackmailing me because he has no evidence, is that right?”
“Yes.”
“But you now think someone else may have the picture, this Will Shakespeare fellow?”
"That’s right and I’m going over to check up on him tomorrow, it’s too late tonight, and offer him a reward for the return of the case. I don’t think he will be bothered about the picture of you and this girl, even if he recognises you. Apparently, he is a teacher, so hardly the blackmailing type. I’ll tell him the case is a family heirloom and offer five hundred pounds reward, is that okay with you?
“Yes, yes, whatever you think.”
Martin sounded troubled. Kenton had thought he would be pleased by the news and was puzzled by his reaction. Martin had sanctioned the amount so at least he would not have to pay it out of his fee.
“I’ll ring you tomorrow, hopefully, with the news that I’ve got your property back.”
“Thanks, bye.”
Martin turned the phone off. He was worried by this turn of events, if this teacher had seen the photo and recognised Martin then he might still be exposed. He just hoped that Kenton was as good as he had been told. The sooner he could destroy that picture the better.
Kenton was still thinking about the muted response he had received from Martin, he had expected he would be pleased that Joe was off his back, but he had not come across as showing much enthusiasm. Maybe there was more to this than Martin had told him. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He had a job to complete and two thousand pounds for a couple of days’ work was good money, why complicate things.
Kenton did not rush down to breakfast; he had decided to let the restaurant clear, have a leisurely meal and read the newspaper. He planned to visit the park and give Sandra her ‘reward’, and then find the house where Will lived. He knew there would not be anyone there, but liked to check everything out before he actually made contact. He planned to call at the house early in case the teacher planned to go out later.
Having read the morning paper from cover to cover, Kenton went to reception and paid his bill, making sure he had a copy of the invoice to submit with his expenses when he sent in his account to Martin.
The day was sunny and he was in a good mood, with any luck, he would be back in London that evening, the cigarette case safely in his possession.
Sandra and Di were serving a group of elderly ladies when he arrived at the cafeteria, and he waited to one side until they had all been served. Sandra had seen him arrive and smiled to let him know she had seen him.
“Hello,” she greeted him as he moved up to counter, the ladies having taken the tea and cakes to a nearby table.
“Good morning, as promised, a little thank you for all your help.” He handed her a fifty-pound note.
“Thanks very much. I hope you get your friends case back.” The two girls were both smiling; they had not expected as much as fifty pounds.
“Well, just keep your fingers crossed for me and hope this Will fellow did find it.”
Having kept his promise, he walked back to his car, but on reaching it, changed his mind, and decided to walk to Will’s house and leave the car in the park, Sandra had said it was only a couple of streets away and he had all day to spare.
Sandra had been spot on with her directions and within ten minutes, he had located the street. He was a little taken aback when he found that the number he had been given was in fact that of a flat, one of four in a small block. He had assumed he was looking for a house. He checked the names on the list outside the main entrance and confirmed Mr & Mrs Shakespeare lived at No 4. On the off chance someone might be home, he rang their bell and waited but after a couple more rings, with no response, he gave up and left.
Deciding to go back at about five o’clock, he checked his watch, it was not yet midday, he had about five hours to fill. On the way back to collect his car, he stopped off at a newsagent and brought a local paper. Once back in his car, he scanned the paper looking for the entertainment page. He found the cinema listings and the address of the nearest one, it was back in Coventry. He entered the postcode into the satnav and a map showing the location came on the screen. The cinema was just off the ring road at the same junction as the one he had used to meet Joe, but inside the ring road. He had remembered seeing an ice rink when he first came to meet Joe and guessed the cinema would be in that complex. A trip back to Coventry and a couple of hours in the cinema would use up the time nicely.
He pulled out of the car park and headed back to Coventry, retracing the journey he had made with Joe. The cinema was well sign posted and it had an adjacent car park. He parked the car and walked around the corner to the entrance. Inside, all the screens were listed with the different films that were showing. Kenton was not a regular cinema goer and was not really bothered what he saw; it was just a way of killing time, so opted for the picture that was due to start now. He would probably fall asleep anyway, but at least he would be in a comfortable seat.
The film was a romantic comedy and he realised, almost straight away, it had been a mistake choosing it, but he persevered and, apart from a section in the middle when he had dropped off, managed to endure the whole performance. He came out and looked at his watch, just after four, time for a cup of coffee and then back to Kenilworth to meet Mr Shakespeare.
Chapter Twenty-Five
He had been going over in his mind how to approach the teacher, and, after numerous ideas, decided the simplest way was to come out and ask if he had unearthed the case. The only thing that bothered him was that he would have to change the story about his friend walking his dog and losing the case, which would not account for the fact that it was buried. The best answer was to stick fairly closely to the truth, that it had been stolen by a young lad who worked for the owner and in his panic had buried it, planning to return, dig up the case and sell it. He knew that while the story sounded plausible, it was liable to be pulled apart by anyone who was at all astute, he just hoped the offer of a reward would stop the man asking too many awkward questions, especially if he had looked at the photo, and could put two and two together.
Try as he might, he could not think of anything better and decided to play things by ear when he met the man. If the worst came to the worst, he could always rough him up a bit, but that was to be a last resort. He wanted to tidy everything up nice and neatly without any unpleasantness.
He pulled up outside the flat, and turned off the engine, with any luck, he would be in and out in minutes. He always carried cash with him, which he kept hidden in the boot of his car, so unless the man wanted too much, he could clear the matter up in one visit.
He locked his car, and walked up to the main door and pressed the bell next to Shakespeare’s name.
A voice came across the speaker.
“Yes, can I help you?” It was a woman’s voice and Kenton guessed it would be Will’s wife.
“Mrs Shakespeare? Is your husband there please?”
“I’m sorry, he’s out, can I help?”
Kenton was annoyed, he had been sure this was the ideal time to catch Will before he went out for the evening.
“Are you expecting him back shortly?”
“No, I’m afraid he is out for the evening, he is visiting his father in Leicester.”
Kenton swore under his breath, this was not going to plan and holding a conversation over an intercom was not helping.
“My name is Kenton, I run a private detective agency and I need some help with a case I’m on and I think your husband could help me. Can I come in, and show you some identification and explain how he might be able to help?” He tried to make his voice sound as reassuring as possible; the last thing he wanted was to frighten the woman.
“Okay, the main door is unlocked come down the passage it’s the door on the right, number 4.”
He walked through the main entrance, and down the passage and knocked on the door. The woman opened the door slightly to reveal that it was on a safety chain.
“May I see your identification?” she said through the small opening.
Kenton smiled at her and took out his ID with a picture, and his name and company address on it.
She compared the photo with the man facing her and, satisfied, slid the chain loose and opened the door fully.
“Sorry about that but you can’t be too careful,” she said almost apologetically.
“That’s quite alright, I fully understand, in fact, I advise all my clients to do the same. It’s amazing how many people never question strangers coming to their door.” His words were reassuring and Julie relaxed, feeling that there was no danger from this polite man.
“How can we, I mean, my husband, help you?”
Kenton, having won the woman’s trust, went with his initial plan of action.
“I understand your husband has a hobby, looking for buried treasure.”
“Yes, but he’s not found much so far.” She gave a nervous giggle. “I’m always telling him that it’s a waste of time.”
“Well, I’m hoping that he may have struck gold, well not gold exactly but at least something of value. You see my client had a cigarette case stolen from his apartment in Kenilworth and he knows the thief, a young boy who worked part time for him. Well, I tracked down the lad to get my client’s property back and he admitted the theft but said he had buried it in Abbey Fields.”
She looked at him quizzically as if finding the whole tale a little far-fetched. He saw her look and quickly went on.
“I know it sounds bizarre but the boy said he panicked and hid the case until things went quiet, then he intended to go back, retrieve it and sell it. Well, I came on the scene, and persuaded the boy to get it and hand it back at which point my client would agree not to press charges. Unfortunately, when he went back to dig it up, it was gone; someone had beaten him to it. I’m hoping your husband has found the case, there is reward for its safe return as it is of sentimental value to my client.” He finished speaking and waited for the woman to ask him how much the reward was, they always ask how much before anything else.
“I don’t think my husband can help you, as far as I know, he has not found anything of value in Abbey fields and certainly not a silver cigarette case.”
Kenton was surprised by her remark. She was lying, but why. He had not mentioned the fact that the case was
silver, so why was she so specific about it being a ‘silver cigarette case’
“That’s a great pity, Mrs Shakespeare, because I do need to find that case and I intend to.”
His voice was now cold, showing no sign of emotion; the friendliness had disappeared. “Here’s my card, I’m staying in Coventry tonight and have to go back to London at lunchtime tomorrow. Please speak to your husband when he comes in and ask him to phone me, I think he will find it in his best interests if he can recall having found what I’m looking for. Don’t get up, I’ll let myself out.”
Kenton left, banging the door shut as he went. Julie did not move for a few seconds, she was shaking; the threat in his voice had left her with a fear of what might happen if Will did not hand over the case and that bloody photo.
He got back in his car and sat for a few moments, trying to control the anger he felt. That silly bloody woman; she was lying, he was sure of that, but he did not understand why. He was as much frustrated as angry, every time he thought he had sorted things out and could get the case, go back to London and get paid, another twist to the story happened. There was something that he couldn’t put his finger on. Why didn’t she just hand over the bloody case and take the reward? The other strange thing was that she never even asked how much the reward was and that’s the first thing they always ask. There was more to this cigarette case than Martin was letting on and if he was going to be able to sort it out, he needed to know what it was Martin was keeping from him.
Julie watched the man, sitting in his car, from behind her curtains. He had been sitting there for about five minutes and she had wondered if she ought to phone the police, but discarded the idea. They would probably think she was just being paranoid, after all, he hadn’t actually threatened her, but the tone of his voice was intimidating.
Eventually, he drove off and she relaxed. When Will got home, she would get him to hand the photo over and that would be that. She still could not understand why she had not just given the man the picture in the first place; something had held her back, maybe because it was not hers to give, it was Will’s.